Gitana entered the city with a swarm of emotions buzzing in her brain and gut. She had been in Khel Zhed before, so she was not so dazzled as Zordt. She kept her focus on Will and those around the group, watching for trouble. As they entered the temple, she asked if they might wait a moment for her to relieve herself at a privy.
While in the privy, she cast two spells.
The first was a spell to enhance her personal charms with interacting with people that would last for five minutes.
The other was a special spell she often used when she entered a new city to get a quick read on current events. Her mind was filled with images and sounds from the recent past. She concentrated on these, trying to glean some information about the current situation.
Once inside the church and in the presence of Father Francis, she explained what was known about Will's cursed tattoo . She grasped Father Francis' hands, hoping his aura of wisdom and authority was authentic. "Please Father, we beg you for any help you can give to save this innocent soul from the fiend inflicted on his flesh. He is an orphan with no one else to defend him. I will repay your blessed assistance any way I can for as long as necessary. Please help!" She made eye contact and felt a brief surge of a very unfamiliar feeling: infatuation and sexual attraction. She felt her face flush and lowered her eyes, embarrassed but she kept hold of his hands a moment longer.
...
Father Frances led you to a small outbuilding near the temple. Will was willing to enter, and inside it was warm and smelled of food. "I may try a spell for banishing creatures from outside the mortal plane. I do not have it prepared at the moment, but we could try at first light tomorrow. But, I must confess, I am not certain it will work, even if we are surrounded by holy things and faithful people." Father Frances seemed weary. "There are others who have more knowledge than me. In the old days, long before any of us were alive, magic had attained a higher level of development than it has now, and dealings with outsiders were more frequent." He seemed happy about this fact, glad that mortal creatures had learned to content themselves with the mundane plane. "In case my spell does not work, I shall have members of my church research the question. They will gather those few who have answers, and plumb the deepest levels of the Great Library." Father Frances looked at each of you in turn. "Is this plan acceptable to you, who have been the caretakers of this boy for so long?"
Gitana spoke up instantly, "Thank you! I will be happy to assist in the research if I may. I know some arcane spells that might help. Anything I can do, I will." The desperation for a successful resolution showed in her voice. She didn't care. She felt helpless, much as she had when she had been a slave, but now it seemed she had allies with great powers.
She knelt by Will and hugged him. "Will, if you can hear me, stay strong! Bear this burden just a little longer."
Zordt gave a sympathetic nod to the holy man's position. "Well maybe once we're done here you'll join me on the road. I've found it's a much better place to be." He inhaled deeply, then nodded to the plan. "That is all we can ask for."
"When we're done, I have unfinished business back in Gringham!"
"Please Father, we beg you for any help you can give to save this innocent soul from the fiend inflicted on his flesh. He is an orphan with no one else to defend him. I will repay your blessed assistance any way I can for as long as necessary. Please help!"
Father Frances smiled down at Gitana. "Yes, I shall help, in any way that I can." He seemed old beyond his years, like a grandfather assuring his descendants that they would be ok.
"Well maybe once we're done here you'll join me on the road. I've found it's a much better place to be."
There was a faint glimmer of mischief in Father Frances's eyes. "I too, have found that I prefer the wild road to the trappings of the city. And yet..." he spread his arms wide, "...here I can do more for more people."
"Will, if you can hear me, stay strong! Bear this burden just a little longer."
The boy smiled up weakly at Gitana. On the road, there had been something malevolent about his smiles, and your attention had been drawn to his red pointed tongue flashing between his small white teeth. Now he seemed to be in control of himself once more, and was even willing to eat a simple dish of boiled grain stewed with a few mushrooms. It was the first time he had eaten anything but raw meat in days.
You went ahead with Father Frances's plan. Runners were dispatched from the temple to gather whatever scholars were awake. Outside, the sun began to sink. The city glowed red as hundreds of fires were kindled, and sounds of merriment and good cheer floated up to meet you. The temple was located near the back of the city, higher up than most other buildings. Across the city to the east lay the citadel, tall and dark.
Scholars began to congregate in the small building next to the temple, while a flood of servants began making preparations in the main building. While the city's population contained slightly more dwarves than any other race, you noticed that there were few assisting you, save a few red haired smiths who you once saw speaking with an elderly priest. Will was quiet, and seemed to drift in and out of consciousness.
Soon the scholars departed for the Great Library.
Several hours after night fell, an envoy from the Citadel reached the temple. "I am here to examine the boy," he pronounced loudly on the temple steps, "by order of his Majesty King Justin, lead me to him at once." One of the temple's personnel began to approach the envoy.
A flood of voices. A blur of images.
It was clear that Father Frances was a newcomer to the city, he had only been there a year and was rapidly disrupting the structures of the church. Before, there had been no charismatic and popular figure to oppose the rulership of the crown, no person for the people to flock to and serve. It was no secret that King Justin disliked him.
There was another name you heard, over and over again. Lyra. Gradually, you began to associate it with images of a face, seen from many different angles. She was an aging woman, with streaks of grey in her hair, yet she must have been beautiful in her youth. She appeared here on a balcony, lit by the sun, there in court, whispering to a huge dwarf seated on a throne made from deer antlers. Was she some sort of spy?
Norde isn't much of a book guy, so he would stay with Will, and be very interest in whatever this newcomer has going on.
Zordt was far from an expert, but he had a broad and shallow knowledge of most things, at least a foundation to help him quickly pick up on new information.
When the envoy loudly announced himself Zordt frowned. The arrogance of the man's approach made him already not like where this was going. Zordt rubbed his tired eyes and straightened his shoulders before coming outside to meet the man, using a half-wave towards the temple personnel to let him know I've got this, stand by. "Sir, can I ask why you want to see the boy? He's had quite an exhausting few weeks, and it's the middle of the night, surely you can understand that rest is important. The temple healers are hard at work to treat him, so unless you have something that they don't that could help..?" He trailed off, sizing up the man to see if he had a holy symbol or anything else that would indicate his faith.
The envoy looked at Zordt for a moment, stroking his long beard. He was short, even for a dwarf, and it reached nearly to his knees. "Yes, I suppose that rest is important. But so is the safety of the city." He produced a small roll of paper. "My orders are to examine the boy personally, in order to determine what kind of affliction he has. I shall cast a Detect Magic spell while I do. And though it pains my sense of hospitality to say so, neither honeyed words nor his need for rest, nor anything else save new orders from the King shall turn me aside until I have done so." He gazed up at Zordt with eyes dark as night. "If I believe he is a danger to the city, we shall have to bring him to court tomorrow in order to have him examined." He unrolled his paper, showing it to you so that you could read it. In typical royal fashion, it went on and on about how important King Justin was and how legitimate his rule was before ordering the reader to allow the envoy to examine the boy physically and magically.
Before everyone left, Gitana passed on some information she discovered during her short burst of magical information gathering. "Father Francis is a trustworthy ally, but he may not have the support of the rulers. We need to be on guard to spot any problems from a woman named Lyra, an aging human woman who seems to be some kind of adviser to the king or perhaps a spy."
As promised, Gitana worked on the research project, pausing only to secure some tea or coffee to help her stay alert. She learned much about ghosts and beings from other planes when she had been a slave and it was something she had researched further whenever she had the chance. So she worked though every book that seemed might have any insights to demon possession via tattoos.
Try as she might, the words blurred and she found herself unable to concentrate.
She gave up on that topic and looked books on magic to see if she could learn how dispel magic might help.
Eventually, she noticed some books on religions that practice evil rituals and read through several hoping she might stumble upon anything resembling the greyskins.
Finding several possible candidates she took the book to Father Francis or his most senior aids. Then she saw the envoy enter and moved closer.
"I am here to examine the boy," he pronounced loudly on the temple steps, "by order of his Majesty King Justin, lead me to him at once." One of the temple's personnel began to approach the envoy.
Gitana felt emboldened by a determination that nothing should interfere with Will's salvation. She stepped forward and spoke as respectfully as she could under the circumstances, "I and three others have risked our lives again and again to make sure this innocent child is cured. I insist we be allowed to accompany him wherever you are taking him. We know more than anyone his condition and what has led to it. You will need our knowledge if you hope to understand the situation."
"Hmm, well I suppose I could save you from some guessing. The tattoo traps the soul of a lesser demon-" He emphasized the 'lesser' part. "-so this is more about saving the boy's life than keeping the city safe. If released out in the countryside such a demon may take many lives, but in a strongly fortified city such as this, surrounded by so many strong holy members of the church and guards, this demon wouldn't last more than a few seconds. So yes, he needs to be under guard, but understand we are not dealing with any prince of hell that threatens the city, we are dealing with a cursed child who needs our help." Zordt waited to see the result from latest words and his intuition on the dwarf while he stood in the doorway.
Norde keeps an eye on the dwarf...
+1 vs surprised
Hedrak crossed his arms over his chest in expectation, as he stood close to, and guarding Will. Raziel hissed.
"I insist we be allowed to accompany him wherever you are taking him. We know more than anyone his condition and what has led to it. You will need our knowledge if you hope to understand the situation."
"Of course, you may accompany me while I investigate the child. We will not need to bring him anywhere unless I deem it necessary." He crossed his arms. "Any advice you have will be taken into consideration."
Norde noted that envoy had a very slight limp, almost impossible to detect.
Zordt got the sense that he was interested in being in charge, in ordering people around. Something about the way his hand fell to his waist made you think he was used to carrying a sword, though he had only an ornate dagger at the moment, which he completely ignored.
"...understand we are not dealing with any prince of hell that threatens the city, we are dealing with a cursed child who needs our help."
"If that is true, I shall leave you to your work. But if guards are needed..." the envoy glanced around the temple, "then perhaps you will need some of our own dour-handed warriors to assist you." You noted that he had very little accent, and was clearly used to speaking common.
Zordt looked at the others for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Guards would be welcomed, but strictly on the outside where they can be called if needed. We would prefer to wait until the morning once Will wakes up, but if you insist on seeing him now then we can wake him."
Gitana escorted the dwarf to Will. Gitana loosened the bindings on the child, keeping her eyes fixed on his to read his mood. She hoped he would remain as docile as he had been lately.
"Will, this is ..." she paused and looked at the envoy to ask with her look for his name.
"He is a dwarf. Remember, we talked about dwarves during our travels? He represents the king and just wants to look at your tattoo so he can report to the king. He won't hurt you."
To the envoy she said, "I have a spell which I periodically have used to check on him. It works similarly to a spell to detect magical auras, but it detects the presence of fiendish types. I'll cast it and describe what I see if that will help."
"Guards would be welcomed, but strictly on the outside where they can be called if needed."
The envoy narrowed his eyes at Zordt. That sounded suspiciously like he would be taking orders from you. "Fine, but only if I'm the one to do the calling. You can trust that I won't disrupt your ceremonies, whatever they may be."
"Will, this is ..."
"Adras," said the envoy.
"Remember, we talked about dwarves during our travels?"
Will nodded slowly, not that interested. He seemed calm.
"He represents the king"
Will perked up suddenly. "The king is interested in me?" He asked. He seemed happy about this fact. "I am sorry to say that I am dangerous, I hope nothing bad comes of me being here."
The envoy examined the boy's tattoo carefully. After some time, Will began to shy away from his scrutiny, ashamed of his state of being. "Please, let that be enough," he said at last.
"Very well. I shall now use a spell to examine you more closely."
The envoy chanted softly for a moment, then examined Will again. The boy shivered and covered himself, though mundane barriers had no effect on the spell.
At last, Adras turned to Gitana. "Cast your own spell now, and tell me what you see."
Gitana cast her spell and silently took in the information and the auras the spell allowed her to see.
She lay a reassuring hand on Will's shoulder. "Thank you, Will. I think that is all for now."
She walked some distance from Will to describe what she saw with Adras. "Some kind of demonic creature is growing from the site of the tattoo. It is still prevented from breaking lose but each time I look, it seems closer to escape. But I believe we still have a few days to try to banish it before it comes loose.
"Please let us do all we can. Anyone who could fight a demon would be welcome as a backup should it come to a fight, but otherwise, I believe the best chance of success comes from Father Francis and his acolytes. I will be happy to give your king a full report of all we have witnessed when the effort to cure Will has either been successful or the threat is at least ended."
The envoy listened to Gitana carefully. "Perhaps he will listen to such a report."
His examination concluded, Adras led you back outside. "So we are agreed, then. I shall procure a detachment under my own command, which will wait outside the area of the ceremony until I order otherwise." He checked to make sure this was amenable to you.
"And one more thing." He lowered his voice slightly. "Should your ceremonies fail and it seems the demon will be born, as you say it shall be, I don't want it to be here. If a few more days go by and you don't succeed, the boy must be relocated to a site away from the city. Father Frances and his followers can go with him, or not, as they will."
Gitana became engrossed in a book and began reading it word for word. A wizard had found a way of calling outsiders without the use of an exceptionally powerful spell such as Planar Binding, which only three spellcasters were known to have been able to cast. The wizard had instead channeled the collective might of many lesser spellcasters, as well as priests whose mundane faith had a surprising power. Once called, the wizard had trapped a demon inside a Magic Circle of ground silver for several days. Predictably, according to the author, some servant had tripped and landed on the circle, allowing the demon to escape. The book's author claimed to be the sole surviving spellcaster who had participated in the ceremony, finding refuge in a temple which the demon could not enter willingly. The others, he claimed, were either killed immediately in a fiery conflagration or else hunted to extinction over the course of several months.
Zordt was able to quickly locate several relevant books, ponderous and dusty, which detailed various rituals used to trap, enslave, or kill powerful outsiders. Quickly flipping through the yellowed pages, Zordt located the most relevant passages and passed them off to others to read more thoroughly. He also helped coax an ancient elf, well over five hundred years old, into remembering the details of several ceremonies she had participated in. It was clear that some demons would require costly and elaborate rituals to call. Further, specific weapons, and especially brave souls to wield those weapons, would be required to actually kill them. He also learned that such weapons might still be held in the city of Khel Zhad, and someone was sent to find them. The outlines of a ceremony began to emerge, one involving multiple magic circles of silver, dozens of chanting priests and spellcasters, and a few brave adventurers. There was something missing, some way of finally vanquishing powerful demons for all time, but the group of researchers didn't have time to figure out what it was, yet.
Gitana, having moved on from her chilling text, began to read a passage about Akbelleth, the demon imprisoned inside Will. It was clear that he was powerful, the kind of creature that could squash a mortal mind with a wave of his hand and cast spells beyond even exceptionally powerful elven spellcasters. He had been worshipped by a god at one time, though in truth he was but a lessor demon of the hosts of Hell, come to brood over the frozen and desolate north. He was associated with darkness, ice, and despair.
Gitana had little hope for Father Frances's spell. However exalted the man might be, she was certain things would not be so easy.
Gitana returned from her conversation with the envoy suddenly feeling the lateness of the hour, compounded by the stress of recent events. She picked up the books she had found. One described rituals for calling demons that utilized the combined power of many lesser casters to overcome the usual level of power and skill required to call a demon. The other described a demon that looked like what she saw when she cast her spells to detect fiendish presences.
She summarized what she had found to the most senior cleric around and then asked where Will was. She would only take her rest near the lad. Her sleep, once it came, was fitful at best, filled with ominous dreams and little deep sleep.
The Juggler Dexterity CG
The Dance Dexterity LG
The Idiot Intelligence NE
Bonuses: +4 sacred bonus against spells of the Evocation and Necromancy schools
One +2 bonus on an Intelligence-based skill check.
Norde spends his time watching Will and having the temple stewards bring various foodstuffs to keep him topped off and ready for battle.
The half-orc went back and forth between Norde as he watched over Will, and Gitana and Zordt while they are doing their research. He did not yet fully trust this enclave, and the people therein, so he tried to keep an eye on his companions as best as possible.
Apart from that, he travelled the city with Raziel on his shoulder, and Dog at his side, trying to take a measure of the place, its activity, etc.
Once Gitana told them of her research, Zordt gathered the party in privacy. "The situation is more dire than we thought. A powerful demon and we don't think the local clergy will be able to prevent it's arrival. I'm not sure what are options are now, I don't think we can fight such a beast." Zordt glanced at the others with desperation.
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"What do you mean? You said it's a LESSER demon. Fate wouldn't give us a challenge we can't meet."
Hedrak walked through the city. It was a large and prosperous place, guards wearing silver cloaks spread across all the major streets. It was clear that at one time there had been more people here, as there were many vacant or repurposed buildings. You noted a few glass gardens, where constant flames kept the temperature warm enough for plants to grow, slowly, in the faded winter light. Freshly picked fruits and vegetables which had not been frozen must cost a fortune.
Hedrak noted a slight tension between the dwarves and the city, who made up about half its residents, and the other races. Still, no open hostility broke out. The main industry you observed was smithing. Enormous quantities of luxury goods, magic weapons, ornate jewelry, and complicated tools were produced here every year. The rest of the city seemed to have been built up around this industry.
There was a deep and cavernous mine that led into the mountain. It was said that in days now long past there had been plans to build tunnels which would lead through the mountains to other cities, but those plans had never been completed.
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"Lesser...relatively speaking. Still much, much more dangerous than us. It's not a competition of brawn, it could wave it's hand and eradicate us. We need to use powerful magic and tools targeting it's weaknesses...but we're missing some vital pieces."
in the morning, final preparations were made for Father Frances's attempt to dispel the demon with a spell. You were brought, along with Will, to the steps of the temple. His bonds were loosened, and a smoker was lit.
The fragrant scents of Cinnamon and Myrh mingled, sending Will into a calm trance. White robed pontiffs and priests gathered round, chanting softly. Some were followers of Father Frances, others high ranking members of other temples from around the city. Each carried a holy object in one hand: the knucklebone of Saint Peter, a knife worn by the queen Theodora on her campaign against the orcs. Even the ancient spear of Tuur, founder of Khel Zhad. In their other hands, they held symbols of summer. Ripe grapes, brilliantly purple against the pale white snow of the courtyard. A buzzing queen bee, taken live from her hive and held in a small wooden clip. She would freeze to death, and there would be one less hive in the summer, but not before the ceremony was complete. A lit flame.
The ceremony rose to a sudden climax. The young form of Father Francess burst into motion, his arms gesturing esoterically. His voice rose and fell, intoning words of power. With a final cry, he touched a finger to Will’s breast, right where the heart would be. Magic spurted from his finger like blood from an artery, hot and steaming in the frozen winter air.
Nothing happened.
Some of the priests glanced at one another. Father Frances lowered his arms to his sides slowly. Will opened his eyes. ”Am I free of him?” You heard him ask, but even before the Cleric could answer you knew. The demon didn’t care about the holy relics of the city, he hadn’t even noticed the frail forms of the pontiffs clustered around the body he inhabited. ”No, my child,” said Father Francess wearily.
Will wept.
Norde asks, in a concerned voice, "so, what do we try next?"
Gitana held her breath as the ritual attempt came to its climax. When the effort failed, she exhaled slowly, fighting with her emotions, striving to maintain her bearing, if only for Will's sake.
Her face remained as if set in stone except for a twitch or two of her brow and lips. She went and sat by Will and put her arm around him as she tried to think.
She asked to speak to Father Francis and any of his senior aides about next steps, well away from Will's earshot. "I hope there are things we could yet try, but I must ask. If we are not able to banish the demon, what would happen to it if Will should die before it frees itself? Would it require him alive to complete the process, do you think? I ask this because if Will is going to die anyway, as I presume he will if this ... thing ... succeeds in entering our world, perhaps it is a mercy to give him something to help him sleep and ... " She chokes up and cannot complete the sentence. She does not dare look at Hedrak, Zordt, or Norde as she says all this.
Zordt was stiff as the ritual commenced. The outcome did nothing but stiffen him further, his eyes cast downward. At Gitana's words his hands gripped tight, white knuckled. For nothing. All that work. And likely just have to mercy kill him now. He remained stiff and frozen in place.
Hedrak looked around when the ritual was finished, then approached Will with a grunt, placing a hand on his head - "We are still here, and we are not going anywhere boy" - his voice was the usual low growl - "Do not cry"
"I hope there are things we could yet try, but I must ask. If we are not able to banish the demon, what would happen to it if Will should die before it frees itself?
Father Frances sighed. "I am not sure, but I doubt it would be so easy. Perhaps the demon would be released, perhaps the boy would rise as an undead creature."
"perhaps it is a mercy to give him something to help him sleep and ... "
Father Frances looked at the boy, who was now being attended by Hedrak and a few others. "A mercy, perhaps, but I do not think it would be wise." He was a pragmatic man, even if he was deeply religious.
"As for what to do next, we must try this technique you have been researching. While the spell I cast has failed, perhaps what you have discovered will succeed."
Hedrak built on what Zordt had discovered. He further researched the use of Magic Circle spells. Father Frances would be able to cast a Magic Circle against Evil spell on a circle of common silver spread across the ground. Once cast, an otherworldly creature caught inside would be unable to walk out of the circle, and none of its spells or abilities could affect anyone outside the circle. In combination with a special diagram, a Dimensional Anchor spell, which could also be supplied by Father Frances, though it would be the most powerful spell he could cast, could be used to prevent teleportation out of the circle. Finally, Hedrak determined that using two concentric circles would be wise, providing a fail safe in case the inner or outer circle were to be breached. The only weakness to such a trap was the chance that an otherworldly being might, through sheer willpower, suppress the magical energies ensnaring it. However, the Magus was certain that a team of dozens of spellcasters, all channeling their energies into one person, would not be susceptible to such an attack.
Hedrak also researched the magical weapons used for such tasks. In the old days, when magic had attained a higher level of development and dealings with outsiders were more common, powerful wizards had spent years crafting special weapons designed to pierce the defenses of even the most powerful demons. Because of their unusual nature, these weapons didn't seem to follow the normal rules of magic. There were two in Khel Zhad, you were sure of that, and one seemed well suited for the task: the Lance of Gwenevere. It could be activated by anyone with faith or the appropriate magical skill, and would swiftly render even a powerful outsider vulnerable to ordinary weapons. It had a flaw, however: its magic could not pierce a complete Magic Circle. In order to circumvent this, the creator had given it a silver tip. The lance would be inserted into the edge of the Magic Circle, so that it penetrated into the interior of the circle. If activated properly, it would leave no opportunity for the demon to escape. If activated improperly, the demon would still be trapped, but some of its powers might leak out into the world. This underscored the importance of a secondary Magic Circle, which could contain such power in an intermediary layer.
Once you killed the demon in this way, there was another step you would have to complete in order to finally vanquish it. Hedrak fell asleep while reading about this process, so you're not sure what the final step is yet.
Norde's head was really starting to hurt with all of this magic talk, and books talk, and rituals talk. Normally he might take the night off and go drink the pain away, but he knows that his blade might be needed, so he instead decides to suffer through the boredom and pain.
Gitana's mood improved upon learning there were ways to limit the demon and fight it. She was prepared to risk all to vanquish the demon, assuming it gave Will a chance to survive.
"So what can we do to bring this holy lance to bear? I will happily circulate and gather information if I know where the information is likely to be be held. I can be very persuasive in getting people to share secrets with me. Or I can try to locate this other weapon of great power. Who knows the most of such things?"
"We could lean on official help, if there is such an artifact within the city we can use the power of the king to make a mandatory request."
The artifact was housed in the temple to Torag, located next to the citadel. Father Frances would not have much difficulty obtaining it, and his church could provide the other resources you needed. You could proceed with the ceremony when you were ready.
When Gitana came out of the latrine she used just before entering the temple the first time, she came out looking different. She was no longer wearing the simple and functional traveling garb but was wearing a lovely but not ostentatious gown and cloak. Her crew recognized this from a few other times she transformed her garments as a modification of some of her magic items.
Gitana sought out the person on Father Francis' team who had the most knowledge of the arcane elements of ritual. She described the spells in her spellbook and asked for advice on which spells might be most helpful during the ritual, including, perhaps especially, if the ritual is unsuccessful in vanquishing the demon.
While seeking out this advice, Gitana kept an eye out for a chance to talk to Father Francis privately about an urgent question.
Sometime in the early afternoon, Father Frances returned from the temple of Torag, the a pontiff from the temple following after him. She was a tall dwarf, not quite five feet tall, and she carried the Lance in a ceremonial shroud. "To be frank," she said when she arrived, "I'm not sure why you want this old thing. The Spear of Tuur, founder of Khel Zhad, is surely a higher and more holy relic." Hedrak was sure you had the right weapon, however.
The lance was not crafted as a normal weapon. It was short as Norde's greatsword, thick and heavily built. The tip was crafted of silver, pure as fresh snow, and there were strange handles set along the length of its shaft. The pontiff from Torag initially wanted to wield it herself, but when she learned that she would have to stand inside a magic circle next to a powerful demon, she decided to leave the lance in your care and return to her very important ministrations. The task before you was one for bold adventurers.
In addition to weakening the demon, the lance could cast a few spells once per day.
[Gitana] described the spells in her spellbook and asked for advice on which spells might be most helpful during the ritual, including, perhaps especially, if the ritual is unsuccessful in vanquishing the demon.
"Hrrmm. Well, I think Father Frances, myself, and the other spellcasters can cover everything we need for the ritual. I suggest you be ready to fight, it might take a lot to bring down the demon. Could be a long day, could be short, who knows." The researcher harumphed. "The demon is associated with ice, darkness, and despair. Maybe some spell to resist energy, something to light the dark, though perhaps the lance will help you there, and a way to keep your allies bold in the face of fear."
-----
Gitana met with Father Frances. She thought she hid her nervousness well, but Father Frances had the air of someone who already knew your deepest secrets and worst flaws - and had already forgiven them.
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Gitana struggles to start her conversation with Father Francis, even though she had rehearsed what she intended to say in her head. She wills herself to start talking and generally avoids looking into his blue eyes.
"I've dealt with evil cults such as the one we think did this to Will. I was "kidnapped from our Varisian caravan when I was ten and sold to a family in Nidal. They were lords of their region and they worshipped a dark god whose name I will not utter. I was trained as a servant but I knew once I matured, the family would use me for ... other things.
"I survived because I discovered a trio of ghosts who had been executed for practicing witchcraft. But they revered not the darkness but what the darkness makes visible, the stars. They did not revere gods however, but fate. I had a harrow deck and they conspired with me to entice the family into letting me do readings for them. The ghosts knew secrets of those in the house and shared them with me. I used these to keep those who would use me at bay. The ghosts also contrived various accidents which I was able to 'fortell', which made the family eager to keep me for safe their benefit.
"I escaped eventually, and have been years putting the horrors of those times behind me. Anyway, I know you are busy, so let me ask you to share with me how I can transform all this darkness into light. I have never asked the gods or goddesses for anything, taking responsibility for my fate. But you have something that I lack, calm confidence in everything you do. How can I have the same?"
Only as she finishes her story and asks her question does she dare meet his gaze.
"My calm confidence and easy manner come from the trust and faith the people have in me. And from the trust and faith I in turn have in my god." Father Frances's answer is simple and straightforward, easy to understand. "Who believes in you, Gitana? And is Fate truly the shepherd you want to trust in? For I have heard that Fate is crafted by the gods, and we can understand what they want with us." Father Frances met Gitana's gaze with a look of encouragement, glad that she has come to him for guidance.
Gitana got lost a moment in Father Francis' eyes, but then she processed what he said and frowned. "Fate, to me, is what happens that is beyond my own control. I can't control what happens and ... and if the gods control it, I'm not sure that changes anything. I still cannot control what happens except what I do in response to what happens. That is where my card reading comes in. It translates what is in store for me or another person and allows me to be prepared for it.
"I hear people talking about being guided by the gods, but I have trouble seeing that as real. I think such people are really just trying to do what I do, predict what is coming, and respond to it. Does anyone truly hear the words of the divine speaking in plain common? Do you?"
With the others seeming settled on their plan of action, Zordt gestured to Hedrak, and brought him away from the ears of the others to speak to him.
"I think we will most likely meet with our deaths here brother" - Hedrak replied with a grim tone - "Just last night before falling asleep I was thinking why the devils we had gotten entangled with all of this? I do not know. Do you?" - he chuckled, patting Raziel.
"I know you would like to die of old age in your sleep many years from now, and I will do my best to make it so" - he added - "But if we die fighting this demon, well... It will be for what is usually called a 'worthy' cause, is it not?" - he stared at his friend.
"Making enemies of demons after spiting one of their own... That sounds much like the stuff which makes up the stories you so much like to tell at taverns brother" - Hedrak chuckled now - "What better thing to actually be a part of them huh?" - he added.
"I am just joking, you know that. But... What alternatives do we have here? If it was just the two of us, I might shrug it away, deliver the boy to the city, and be done with it" - he shrugged - "But Norde and Gitana will not leave, you know it as well as I do - we have shed blood and fought side by side with them, defending each other's lives many times over now" - the half-orc snarled in frustration - "We cannot, and I know neither one of us would be able to live with leaving them behind"